


Clysterfuck

by bitter_crimson (Krim)



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Enemas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-16
Updated: 2009-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10592535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krim/pseuds/bitter_crimson
Summary: Arthur doesn't get enough fiber.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "'Clyster' is an old-fashioned word for enema, more particularly for enemas administered using a clyster syringe — that is, a syringe with a rectal nozzle and a plunger." [source: [Wikipedia](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clyster#History)] A clyster syringe [looks like this.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Clyster_syringes.jpg)

Arthur did not get embarrassed. It was not a very princely thing to do, nor was it heroic. One could argue that certain situations in his past had caused him shame, but such an argument would immediately be cut very short, by the edge of Arthur's sword if need be.

And so, quite obviously, Arthur was decidedly _not_ embarrassed by his current situation.

"Er," said Merlin, staring blankly at him. "Sorry, you want me to what?"

If things had gone the way Arthur would have liked them to go, then Merlin wouldn't be in Arthur's chambers right now, having this conversation with him. But his father just _had_ to be at his most perceptive this morning, noticing something was off about Arthur's gait, and had subsequently ordered him to visit Gaius and take heed of whatever remedy was prescribed him. Arthur was certain his father knew his affliction, and, well, it wasn't like this kind of thing was uncommon in Camelot. Arthur himself had never suffered this severely, but had been forced to seek treatment for the problem as a small child. Even within the royal household, they often had to make do with a rather insufficient diet.

"I don't see what's so hard to understand," Arthur said with as much haughtiness as he could muster, lifting his chin and crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the bedpost. "You _do_ know what a clyster is, don't you?"

Merlin darted his eyes at the large metal canister on the table, then looked back at Arthur, sighing with mock annoyance. "Well, I assume it has something to do with that strange thing on your table."

Arthur felt his jaw drop open a bit despite himself. "Seriously? You live with the court physician, and you've been in Camelot _how_ long now? I can't believe you have no idea what a clyster is."

Merlin flushed a little. "Well, it's not like I'm Gaius's apprentice or anything!"

"You may as well be," Arthur shot back, rolling his eyes. "You help him with his treatments and potions all the time."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'd have more time to learn about those things if you didn't force me to do so many completely useless things as your servant."

Arthur's eyes flashed. "Well," he said, stepping forward to clap Merlin on the shoulder, "luckily for you, you're about to kill two birds with one stone."

"Oh great," said Merlin dubiously, "you know how I love killing things." He glanced down at the clyster syringe. "So, what do we do with it?"

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. Right, Merlin didn't know what it was for, which meant Arthur would have to explain it to him. He hadn't quite thought of that.

"Um," he said, suddenly groping about for the words and fighting to keep the flush from his face. He turned away from Merlin and pointed at the syringe where it sat on the table. "Well, that's the clyster syringe, there."

"Okay, yeah," said Merlin, taking the few steps over to the table and running his hand over the top of the syringe. It was mostly made of metal: a large canister with some kind of design on the outside, long worn flat through use (and oh, wasn't that pleasant to think about, how much it had been used; though certainly Gaius must wash it thoroughly between uses), with a tapered metal spout at one end and a bulbous wooden plunger at the other. Arthur swallowed a little as Merlin's hands ghosted lightly over the ridges on the wood. "And it does what?"

Arthur coughed and turned away from his servant. "Well, ah, first you will need to fetch and heat me some water."

"All right," said Merlin, raising his eyebrows. "And then what? Is this really so hard to explain? The water goes inside the syringe, yeah?"

"Yes," said Arthur, swallowing again.

"Okay, so then the syringe must go--" And suddenly there was silence from behind Arthur, and he was almost tempted to turn around to make sure Merlin was still there, when he heard Merlin say in a much fainter voice: "Oh."

At that, Arthur could not resist turning to see Merlin's face, so he did so; his pasty servant was redder than Arthur could remember seeing him in recent times, a kind of panic seemingly growing inside his eyes. Arthur didn't know if this made him feel better, that he was not the only one extremely uncomfortable with this situation, or worse, since Merlin was obviously rapidly losing his nerve. Not that princes let things like this bother them.

"Right." Arthur coughed. "So, then." He shifted his stance and forced himself to meet Merlin's eyes (his now fairly terrified eyes), before raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be getting some water?"

"Um," Merlin said. He stood rooted to the spot for a few moments more, and then almost before Arthur could blink he was gone from the room.

Arthur immediately sighed and let his torso fall back against the foot of his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Why, he wondered, couldn't Gaius come up with some kind of invention that would allow a person to administer a clyster himself? Certainly there was no need for servants to become _this_ well-acquainted with their masters. Arthur pictured, suddenly, Merlin leaning over him, Arthur spread out on the bed, bare arse raised in the air, the clyster syringe being inserted into him... And then shuddered, quashing the image with all his willpower, ignoring the noticeable swelling that his cock had given in response to the thought.

Pain, he thought urgently. Discomfort. Shame. There was absolutely no reason his body should be interested in the thought of his useless manservant attending to it in that way... It was obscene, really, to allow a servant that kind of control over his master. It went completely against the proper balance of power in the court. If anyone were to be inserting objects into anyone else, here, it should obviously be Arthur, pressing things into Merlin... not Merlin with Arthur spread partially naked and subservient in front of him, completely at his mercy, submitting to such a humiliating procedure.

"I've got the water."

Arthur started and launched himself off the bed and to a standing position upon hearing Merlin's voice from the doorway. Right away, however, Arthur realized his mistake, as the pressure at the front of his trousers was no longer a slight one, and if Merlin were to look down at Arthur's front, surely he would notice...

But Merlin was turned away from him, leaning down in front of the fireplace with the pail of water. Arthur tried very hard to summon every shred of self-discipline he could. He would _not_ be sexually aroused by a simple peasant, nor by an unwanted but unfortunately necessary medical procedure. He schooled his body to calm, slow breaths, and dug the stubs of his fingernails into his palms as hard as he could, fists clenched tight.

Pail apparently situated sufficiently on the fire, Merlin stood up, staring somewhere over Arthur's shoulder. "Um," he said. "So, that will probably take a few minutes to heat up, I'd guess?"

"Do you even know how hot it's supposed to be, Merlin?" There, that was better: precisely the right combination of disdain and superiority.

Merlin scowled, finally looking Arthur in the eye again. "Sure I do. It's not like I've never done one of these before, you know."

Arthur stared. "But you said..."

Gesturing at the syringe, Merlin said, "Well, it's not like we have fancy things like that in Ealdor. But we had a similar remedy that made use of a wooden funnel."

"Merlin!" said Arthur, eyebrows shooting up. "That's quite all right. Next time you feel the need to share your charming village folk remedies with me, don't."

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Merlin's mouth. "If you find that story too _intimate_ , then perhaps it isn't a good idea to have me give this treatment to you."

"Believe me, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have to," Arthur said. He forced himself to stop gritting his teeth and continued. "But unfortunately, my father happened to notice my, ah, affliction, and ordered me to have Gaius take care of it."

"So have Gaius take care of it," Merlin shot back in a challenging voice. He paused, and a look of horror dawned upon his face.

Arthur was fairly certain he was wearing the same expression.

"Um, on second thought," said Merlin timidly.

"Right," replied Arthur faintly. "So as you can see, since Gaius lacks the equipment necessary for me to perform this procedure on myself, unfortunately I must rely on someone to assist me. And, well."

"I'll check on the water," Merlin said quickly, returning to the fireplace and dropping to a crouch.

Arthur sighed heavily and let himself lean back against his bed again, half-sitting on its edge. He tried to will his mind blank. Dimly he heard Merlin muttering something in front of the fireplace, but he couldn't quite make out what was being said.

"All right," Merlin spoke up more clearly now, rising to his feet with the pail of hot water held out in front of himself. "I think it's ready now."

"You think?" scoffed Arthur. "You'd best be sure, unless you want to be thrown in the stocks for scalding the royal arse."

That drew a surprised burst of laughter from Merlin, and Arthur felt himself grinning as well. Perhaps that was the way to go with this; it was really no big deal, just a routine medical procedure, nothing untoward or sexual about it. It had been silly of Arthur to think this would necessarily be awkward or strange for either of them. Despite his (numerous) failings, Merlin was, Arthur would admit grudgingly (though never to his face), an acceptable manservant, and he would surely do his best to perform this duty for Arthur as well.

"I don't know, your highness," said Merlin, smirking. He was at the table, maneuvering the syringe so he could pour the warm water inside. "Are you sure this isn't all a plot to get people in Camelot to think you have a hot bum?"

"Excuse me! It is widely known and universally accepted that I have an _extremely_ hot bum." Merlin opened his mouth but Arthur quickly cut him off again. "And if you try to claim differently, I can easily have you jailed for treason."

Merlin grinned up at Arthur, then looked back down at what he was doing. "Oh, so it's considered a crime in Camelot to tell the truth, now?"

Arthur pushed off the bed and took a few steps forward toward Merlin. "Slander is a crime, you know," he said. Then he looked down; Merlin was finished pouring the water into the syringe, and was now awkwardly trying to figure out how to hold it in his arms. Arthur felt his heart jump into his throat and suddenly the joking atmosphere was gone.

When Arthur said nothing further, just staring down at the syringe, Merlin cleared his throat loudly. Arthur looked up at him. "So," Merlin said. Arthur was suddenly aware of how closely the two of them were standing, once more. "Um, the bed?" Merlin's voice was very uncertain.

The image of himself spread out on his sheets with Merlin kneeling over him leaped immediately back to the front of Arthur's mind and he felt his throat go dry. That was a very, very bad idea. "Ah, don't be an idiot," he said, trying to sound more in control than he felt. "What if something goes wrong and you make a mess of my sheets? Where would I sleep?"

"Oh." Merlin blinked. "I guess that makes sense."

Arthur clapped his hands together. "Right, then. The floor?"

"Okay."

When Merlin didn't move, Arthur raised an eyebrow and said, "So pull over the rug and get me a pillow from the bed for my head."

"Oh, right, right," said Merlin, breaking out of his apparent stupor and moving about the room with poorly concealed nervousness.

Arthur restrained himself from sighing and leaned down to remove his boots. It was going to be hard enough to undergo the clyster without Merlin undressing him, too.

Merlin, apparently, did not understand this, because he noticed Arthur bent over and immediately stopped what he was doing, saying, "Oh. Would you like me to, um, undress you?"

Arthur halted his movements and cursed his traitorous body; once again, it seemed he had a problem on his hands. Fortunately, there was no way Merlin would notice it right now, with Arthur bent over like this. And it wasn't yet a large problem, either; surely if Arthur ignored the erection, it would go away. If nothing else, the pain of the clyster would see to that.

"No, Merlin," Arthur said stiffly. "I'm not a child. I can actually remove my own trousers."

"Right, right," said Merlin. "Um." He quickly dragged the rug over to Arthur and smoothed it out on the floor. "There you go. I'll, uh, get the pillow."

Arthur waited until Merlin's back was turned, then quickly divested himself of the rest of the clothing on the lower half of his body, and set himself down on the fur rug. He struggled a bit finding the best position; he felt far too subservient pressed flat on his stomach, but holding himself up on all fours was definitely _not_ an option given his current state. Lifting his torso up a bit and holding himself on his elbows, Arthur felt marginally better. It pressed his lower back in kind of an uncomfortable position, but it would have to do.

There was a strange noise, something like a whine, from behind him, and Arthur twisted his neck around. Merlin was standing there holding the pillow in one hand, the clyster syringe tucked awkwardly into his other arm, staring at Arthur with an extremely strange expression on his face. Arthur felt something warm curl in his gut, and shifted uncomfortably as his erection pressed more insistently into the hard floor through the rug.

"Well?" Arthur said finally, when Merlin showed no signs of moving toward him. Merlin blinked several times, rapidly, and then began to advance with jerky, halted movements. Arthur sighed and turned his head back around. Merlin deposited the pillow in front of him, and Arthur reached out to tuck it under his chin.

"So... So I just squirt the whole thing in, then?" Merlin's voice was unsteady and his breathing hitched audibly.

Arthur's own breathing was none too calm, but he wouldn't let himself sound more out of control than a servant, and so he said with what he thought was quite admirable evenness, "Not too quickly, I'd hope."

"Damn, I was planning on doing it all at once," said Merlin.

Arthur was about to shoot back a reply, but then he felt Merlin's clothed leg brush against the outside of his naked thigh and couldn't suppress the slight tremor that shot through him. He inwardly cursed himself.

"Ummmmmm." Merlin mumbled something.

"Speak-- Speak up, Merlin," said Arthur, between traitorously unsteady breaths.

"I just, ah, I'm not really sure what the best position for me to be in is," Merlin blurted out.

Arthur clenched his eyes shut and held back a groan. "What. Whatever you think is, ah, best."

A few moments passed, and then Arthur felt Merlin lowering himself down. Merlin kneeled with his legs flanking Arthur's on either side, his knees just above Arthur's.

"All right?" Merlin asked, voice deep and soft.

"That's... yes, fine, Merlin, that's fine." It was more than fine, if the pounding in Arthur's chest and the throbbing of his trapped erection were anything to go on. "Just get-- get on with it already."

Arthur braced himself for the sudden intrusion of the cold, hard tip of the syringe, but he was not prepared for what actually happened next: something soft and warm probing tentatively between his cheeks and toward his hole. Arthur reflexively shouted out and launched himself forward. "What in the hell was that!" he yelled, beginning to pull himself off the floor to turn and glare at Merlin, before remembering his erection and pressing his hips back to the floor, only twisting his head around.

It was plain to see what it had been; Merlin still had the finger extended, though it had obviously been drawn back some when Arthur reacted. There was some kind of goop on it. Merlin's face was terrified and bright red. "Oh God," he said, "did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to--"

"You didn't _hurt_ me, Merlin," growled Arthur. "You attempted to stick your finger up my arse, from what I could tell." Just saying that made his cock twitch; Arthur ignored it. "Would you mind telling me what made you think it was permissible to do so?"

Merlin gaped at him. "You... You can't expect me to just stick this thing up your arse! I used that muscle salve that Gaius gave you. I was just trying to put something in there first... unless you don't _want_ to be able to sit for the next couple of days."

All right, Arthur had to admit, that wasn't the worst idea ever. "Fine," he gritted through clenched teeth. "While that may have been a good idea, putting your finger where it was not invited was not." He took a deep breath and tried to relax somewhat. "You may apply the salve to the nozzle of the syringe, instead."

"But--" Merlin began.

"You will do as I command, Merlin," Arthur growled, and his servant fell silent. "Understood?"

Merlin swallowed and nodded, and deciding this was satisfactory, Arthur turned his head back around, pressing his face into the pillow. He wanted to be anywhere, _anywhere_ but here right now. He cursed the castle cooks and the farmers and the merchants and anyone else he could think of to blame for his current predicament. He cursed his father and Gaius and Merlin and his own wretched digestive system, and he particularly cursed his traitorous anatomy and his body's apparent unseemly attraction to his idiot manservant. Thankfully, though, as soon as the syringe was inserted, that problem was bound to go away.

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the cool metal against his opening, and then forced himself to keep breathing as Merlin slowly began to press the syringe further inside. It was not, Arthur supposed, as bad as it might have been; the salve Merlin had applied did seem to help in easing the syringe's passage. Still, it was certainly an uncomfortable and slightly painful experience. Arthur felt his erection subside ever-so-slightly and felt a moment's relief. He focused on relaxing and calming his breathing. Behind him, Arthur heard Merlin breathing somewhat heavily as well, which caused his cock to swell slightly again, and Arthur swore under his breath, trying to drive thoughts of Merlin out of his mind.

Merlin, of course, heard Arthur's curse and asked frantically, "Arthur, oh, I didn't hurt you, did I? Are you--"

"I'm fine," Arthur grunted. He could feel the syringe canister pressed firmly against his cheeks, now; the syringe was all the way in. "Go... Go ahead and begin depressing the plunger, Merlin," he said. " _Slowly._ "

Merlin fell silent and did as instructed. Arthur felt the odd sensation of the water flowing into his ass. It was extremely strange, and he almost couldn't feel it. Indeed, particularly with the pressure of the metal nozzle inside him, it was difficult to feel anything else. But the pressure from the water began building, slowly, as behind him Merlin pressed steadily on the plunger. The room was silent but for their breathing, and Arthur found he was able to exert less and less control over himself to keep his own breaths steady. Merlin's panting -- oh God, it was _obscene_ , he sounded like he had run a mile, or gone head-to-head with Arthur in combat -- was suddenly the only sound Arthur could focus on. He tried and failed to rip his attention away from it, and finally gave in. Merlin's hitching, unsteady breaths, the tensing and small twitches of Merlin's calves against Arthur's, the building pressure inside Arthur's gut, and oh fuck, what _was_ that...

Arthur released the groan, unable to hold it in. The water was pressing against something inside him, and it was somehow shooting straight to his cock. He began to rub against the floor in jerking little movements, held in place by the clyster syringe wedged inside him.

"Arthur," said Merlin from behind him, breathily, voice full of wonder.

"Don't-- stop--" choked out Arthur. He was beginning to lose control of himself, torn between rutting into the rug beneath him and pressing back against the metal in his arse. Then he cried out and pushed himself up and back, onto all fours. Merlin made a surprised noise from behind him but thankfully went with him, pulling the syringe back as Arthur moved to go with him. Arthur groaned in frustration; Merlin was pressed firmly against his legs and he could almost feel the heat from Merlin's body against his arse, but that damned syringe was in the way.

"Push... harder," said Arthur. " _Faster._ "

"Oh God, Arthur," said Merlin, and he did; Arthur could feel the increase in flow inside himself. His gut began to clench a little, uncomfortably, but Arthur gritted his teeth and ignored it, throwing his weight onto one arm and reaching the other down, shakily, to wrap around his cock, tugging on it firmly as the pressure continued to build within him.

"Arthur, Arthur." Merlin's tone sounded almost feverish. "Oh God, let me, you have to, Arthur--"

Arthur started as the syringe was abruptly withdrawn from inside him and took his hand off his cock; he clenched down, hard. He was about to ask Merlin what the hell he was doing, when he felt the cold edge of his chamberpot being pressed into the side of his thigh, and Merlin's voice, full of need: "Arthur, that's enough, do it now, _please_."

Pressing his eyes closed, Arthur lifted his shaking arms off the rug, reaching out unsteadily for the chamberpot. His hand met Merlin's on its edge and Arthur grasped at Merlin's fingers, reaching back with his other hand next, then pulling himself up to squat over the opening. Arthur swayed a little and thought distractedly that he might fall over, but then Merlin's hand were on his shoulders, holding him still, and Arthur sighed and leaned into those fingers, trying to relax his shaking body.

"Now, Arthur," commanded Merlin, voice suddenly strong and close. Arthur's eyes flew open. Merlin's face was right in front of his, eyes locked on his own, their warm breaths mingling in the small space between their mouths.

Arthur groaned and pressed down on his bowels. It felt strange: a little like peeing, a little like diarrhea, Arthur thought with detachment. It also, God, felt like such a relief. It was all draining out of him, liquefied with the water, finally, after days. Arthur's body shook as he evacuated, but Merlin kept him upright, and during it all Merlin's gaze never wavered from Arthur's.

The flow slowed, then stopped altogether, and still Arthur was trembling. "Are you... Are you done?" Merlin asked, sounding slightly uncertain again.

Arthur surged forward, knocking Merlin to the floor, mostly on the rug, and hoped absently that he hadn't kicked the chamberpot over behind them. He wanted to crawl inside Merlin's skin, or maybe the other way around; instead he had to settle for insistent, messy kisses, not steady at all, his body still shaking. He pressed his eyes closed and tried to get his tongue inside Merlin's mouth but mostly failed, kisses falling all over Merlin's face.

Merlin moaned against Arthur's mouth and slid his hands up from Arthur's shoulders to the sides of his face. Arthur tried to voice a protest as he felt Merlin pushing him away, and made an effort to surge forward again, but somehow Merlin overpowered him.

"Arthur," Merlin said, and Arthur opened his eyes again as if on command. He thought, absently, that he could see tiny specks of gold in Merlin's eyes from this close. "Bed."

Arthur's eyelids fluttered and he tried to push himself to his feet. Merlin grasped his hand and pulled him up, and Arthur thought that maybe he should be ashamed of letting Merlin manhandle him like this, but all he could really think was, _Yes, more_.

Somehow Merlin got him up on the bed; Arthur wasn't quite clear on the details. He landed face down on the mattress and pressed himself into it, rocking his cock against the rucked-up quilt. Behind him, Merlin was whispering something and Arthur felt the remaining moisture around his hole evaporate quickly.

"Arthur," said Merlin again, and Arthur thought, _Merlin_ , and, _Anything_ , and then whined as Merlin pressed urgently at his side instead of lying on top of him. Arthur let himself be rolled over, and then immediately Merlin was upon him, tongue pressing hotly into Arthur's mouth, hands tugging at his hair, naked body -- Arthur hadn't even noticed Merlin taking their clothes off, but apparently he had, for they were both completely nude -- rubbing up against his own.

"I want," said Arthur, brokenly, "I want--"

"Shhh." Merlin slowed his movements and kissed Arthur slowly, sweetly. "Okay."

And Arthur thought it would have been enough, the salve already within him from the syringe, but apparently Merlin had brought it with him to the bed because there was more now, and Merlin's fingers were pressing up inside Arthur. Whining, Arthur squirmed and drove himself down on Merlin's hand, opening his mouth to say that he was already ready after the clyster and wanting more, now, but Merlin just hushed him again and pressed kiss after kiss upon Arthur's lips.

Finally, when Arthur felt he was about to break, Merlin pulled Arthur's legs up onto his shoulders, pressed the head of his cock hot against Arthur's opening, then stared down directly into his eyes and asked, "Okay?"

" _Merlin_ ," moaned Arthur reverently, and apparently that was enough of an answer. Merlin let out a deep guttural sound and pressed forward inside Arthur. After he got all the way in he began to thrust, slowly at first, and Arthur felt Merlin's cock rubbing over that same spot from before. Just like with the clyster, the pressure went straight to Arthur's erection, and he cried out, trying to push down faster.

Merlin got a hand on Arthur's shoulder, and somehow, it was enough to hold Arthur still, giving Merlin complete control. His other hand wrapped around Arthur's cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts into Arthur's body.

When Arthur came he thought maybe he saw stars, constellations swirling in the canopy above his head, sparks of gold flying around him, the origin of the cosmos and planets and the whole of time and space.

\--

  
"Arthur," he heard Merlin murmur softly from somewhere nearby. Arthur made a displeased noise and burrowed further into his pillow, then paused and opened a bleary eye. He didn't even remember falling asleep, or much of anything from after his orgasm, really.

Merlin was lying on the bed next to him, something like worry on his face. "Um," he said. "You, uh, fell asleep. Are you all right?"

"Mmmph," Arthur said, closing his eyes again and turning his face into the pillow.

"Right," Merlin said after a pause. "Well, then, I guess. I already took your chamberpot out to empty it, so since your treatment is done, I'll just be..."

At that Arthur did open his eyes, and let loose the best glare he could manage. "What? Were you thinking of leaving?"

Merlin was, indeed, sitting up on his side of the bed, his legs angled over the side. "Well--"

"Get the hell back here," Arthur commanded.

Merlin's grin nearly blinded Arthur as he brought his legs back up into the bed and under the covers, then inched toward the center. When Merlin was close enough, Arthur threw a clumsy arm around him and yanked him closer, quirking the corner of his lip at Merlin's delighted laugh.

"I'll guess we'll have to thank Gaius," Merlin said teasingly, breath hot against Arthur's ear, "and your father, for such a successful treatment."

Arthur cringed. "Never mention Gaius or my father when we're in bed ever again."

Merlin smirked at him and wrapped his arms around Arthur's chest. "I just think we should give credit where it's due, that's all."

Arthur lazily swatted at Merlin's head with the palm of his hand, missing by several inches. "Shut up," he said, burrowing into the side of Merlin's neck, "and go to sleep."


End file.
